Recovery
by winchester7996
Summary: Their relationship was sealed in marriage and their baby was three months away from being held in their arms. Everything seemed so beautifully and blissfully perfect, but fate seemed to have decided otherwise Warning: miscarriage, depression
1. Beautiful Start to a Tragedy

So, this is an unbeta-ed story that I have no clue will be any good or not. I hope you enjoy it and hope that you guys want to see more.

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"Can we get ice cream?!" begged America. His cerulean eyes focusing on the ice parlor that was few building down from their current location. "Please?!" The younger nation looked at his lover with pleading, child-like eyes.

The crimson glare of the red light hanging above the country's car gave the Englishman's hair a faint ginger hue against his pale straw colored hair. His pale lips pursed for a minute as he considered his lover's response. "I don't see why not," he began, "seeing you've been good lately, and the special gift you're carrying needs to be nourished." England turned and looked at the growing bulge tucked beneath America's shirt, the seatbelt emphasizing the seven-month-old bump. His pale hand reached out and rested on the warm mass, catching a moment where the baby was kicking. "My little love, you're almost here," England said with a wide smile stretching his lips.

America smiled wide in response, but the slightly cool hand that rested on his pregnant stomach made him feel incredibly happy on the inside. "Three more months left before we get to hold our little man."

"Charlie," breathed England, "I hope he has your eyes."

"Then I hope he has your accent."

A blonde brow raised, as the light switched to green and England accelerated the car. "Does this mean we get to live in England and raise Charlie there?" The Brit turned into the parlor lot and parked before looking towards his lover. "Well?" America was already up and out of the car before England could receive his answer. "Damn Yank," sighed England, as he got up and out of the car.

"Come-on Iggy! America was already entering the parlor, and he waited patiently for England to enter. "Finally!" The American barely caught the eye roll given to him because he was already walking up towards the counter. "Can I please get a peanut butter sundae with extra chocolate ice cream and extra peanut butter sauce?"

The person working nodded and quickly started making the order.

"You could at least say 'may I' because proper English is important," reminded England.

America wasn't listening because his time was too busy watching the ice cream and keeping his salvia in check. "Yeah, yeah." His eyes too focused on watching the creamy chocolate substance being separated by the silver ice cream scoop.

The older country smiled to himself because his lover was adorable. England didn't know if it was the glow of pregnancy that made America seem more beautiful than normal, but he couldn't get enough of the younger. Emerald eyes wandered towards the window and saw white specks floating downwards gently. His legs pulled him towards the window to watch the fresh snow falling towards the ground. "Snow," blinked England, "finally falling."

When America was given his sundae he smiled widely and thanked the server. Then he turned to England, a look of childish desire upon his face that made the Brit scoff playfully before paying. This resulted in a kiss against the Brit's cheek. "Home?" he whispered.

"Yes, we can go home now. I'm sure Hero and Scones would be delighted to snuggle up with us." England wrapped his arms around America's waist, his hand resting on the growing bump. "Home we go." The cool air kissed both nation's skin as they walked outside of the heated parlor; snow danced before their eyes as they walked towards the car. England helped America into the car, stealing a kiss before he closed the passenger door. He heard the chuckles of his lover as he walked around to the driver side door.

Once he was in England started the car and started to half hour drive home. "Thank you for the ice cream," said America. The younger scraping the plastic spoon against the paper bowl repeatedly in a vain attempt to gather more of the chocolatey and peanut butter-y substance. "The baby thanks you too."

That made England smile, his hand sneaking and reclaiming its spot against America's growing bump. "I'm glad he's happy because he needs to be a strong boy, just like his mum."

"Iggy, we've been over this," sighed America, "I will not be his "mum," but his daddy. And you will be Charlie's papa." America jolted forward a bit as the car slid to stop due to light going red. "Watch your driving old man, this isn't a carriage!"

England turned and looked into America's blue eyes. "Terribly sorry, the snow makes stopping difficult sometimes." That pale hand soothed small circular movements against the solid mound, making America hum happily. All the while Charlie kicked lightly, almost like a sign of content. "I'll make up for it later, "daddy"," England lowered his voice seductively. This made America blush darkly, a sight visible despite it being dark; a sight made even more red due to the glowing red light that hang above the nations. "I take it that you want that, love." The Brit reached acrossed the console and kissed America deeply, a sigh escaping America to only be consumed by England. Pulling back a bit is when England nibbled gently on America's lower lip, then reached behind America's head to crush their lips together again.

The light turned green, and England removed himself from America, leaving only his right hand against America's stomach. America breathed deeply as the heat of the moment coursed through his body. A part of England was grinning at the moment that a simple kiss could turn on his lover so much. The Brit pressed against the accelerator pad and the car began to move across the intersection.

A light shined into England's peripheral vision and he turned to see America frozen in fear as an oncoming car slid towards at a tantalizing speed. "ARTHUR!" America yelled. The American turned to face England. Their eyes meeting, emeralds against sapphires. But that all broke when the other car impacted theirs.

"Alfred . . . "

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Reviews?


	2. Heartbreak

Hey guys and gals! I'm sorry if this story seems weird and out of place, I'm trying a new genre and getting back into the swing of writing. I hope you like it to any degree

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Arthur released a pained groan as his body jerked in one direction. The left, he reasoned. Something soft touched his fingers before his whole body rested against it. His blonde head rested against the soft surface angled toward the right, where a bright light shined in his dazed eyes and caused him to wince and try to turn his head away.

"Sir, don't move." The voice was somewhere above him. "You were just in a car accident and we can't afford you to move around too much because more damage can occur to you." Suddenly England felt his body being jerked upwards, causing another groan. "We're taking you to St. Hetalia Hospital."

England tried to look around and find America. "What about my partner?" He waited as he felt himself being wheeled towards – what he assumed – the ambulance. "Please! What about Alfred?!" Another jerk and more bright lights shined down onto him.

"His BP is elevated slightly," a voice to his left said, "seems his collarbone may be broken, and he's bleeding from his head. We need to stabilize the headwound."

"God save the Queen!" England screamed. "I am the personification of the United Kingdom and Northern Ireland! I have been through far worse! Now," breathed the irritated Brit, "where is my husband, the personification of the United States, Alfred?"

The EMT working on England looked at the nation and blinked, not knowing how to phrase it. "Your condition is our top concern and you are bleeding profusely from your head." The EMT pressed gauze against England's temple. "Your partner was sent to the hospital in the first ambulance, so I do not know what his condition is." The pressure against England's head caused him to yelp in pain. However, he felt a small pinprick of pain in his arm. Then, everything blurred out before going completely black.

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The sounds of beeping machines echoed against England's ear drums, causing him give a small huff in irritation. He cracked his eyes opens and saw that everything was white. "A hospital," England concluded after seeing all the equipment, "Alfred!" England jerked up and jumped out of his bed, a small wince from the pain. Noting a white sheet separating the room England assumed that just maybe America might be behind it. He pushed himself to walk around his bed, jerking the white cloth away.

There lay America, unconscious. A bruise was flowered on his right temple and spread down to his cheek. His breathing seemed stable and he had no respirator strapped to his face. "Thank god," England breathed quietly. He stood by America's side and touched his lover's face gently. "You're not lost, my love." Pale lips graced slightly tanned skin of America's forehead. Emerald eyes took in America's face, but then the hairs on the back of England's hair began to stir. Something wasn't right. The Englishmen's eyes wandered down to America's midsection and his heart stuttered. "No . . ."

Where there was a healthy size bump for a seven-month old pregnant male there was nothing. It was almost completely flat, besides the slight swelling of tissue that had yet to recede and be exercised off. England's hand touched the swollen flesh and hoped to feel a kick that wouldn't come.

"Sir, you shouldn't be up yet," said a feminine voice. Slight tapping made its way to England's stature, then warm hands touched his arm. "Please go back to bed and rest."

England shook his head, despite it hurting. "No," England ground out, "th-the baby. Where is he?" He felt the nurse pulling him back to his bed gently. There wasn't any fight in him. She pushed him down onto his bed. "Please . . . Where is Charlie?" England looked into her eyes, tears threatening to spill.

The nurse stood back and looked down. Not a good sign. "I'm sorry, but your baby didn't survive the crash. When the doctor performed an emergency c-section it was already too late." She looked truly sad, and England hated it. The pity of she was giving to him hurt. "Would you like to hold him?" England paused for a few moments, then nodded. "I'll go get him, but can you please stay in your bed?" Another dull nod was given. She left quietly and England, keeping to his promise, pulled himself back underneath his thin sheets. He waited quietly, emeralds peered at America's sleeping form for a long period of time. Then, the nurse appeared holding a small bundle in her arms. "Here," she said quietly as she walked over and placed the bundle into England's arms, "He was a beautiful baby."

That word: was. It tore England's heart up because he had to face the reality that their baby was dead. He looked down and saw a healthy thatch of silvery blonde tresses. His fingers began to trace to the outline of his baby boy's face; memorizing every contour and divet. England could tell that Charlie would have had America's plump lips, and probably his daddy's dimples. "My baby boy," England whispered, "I'm sorry." He raised the cool infant to his lips and kissed his forehead. "You'll never be forgotten Charlie, never." England situated the deceased against his chest and held him as if he were alive, a hand caressing against the light blonde locks.

"Iggy?" a drowsy voice breathed out. "Where are we?" Emeralds turned and saw America turning slightly, a hand rested against its owner's forehead. Cerulean eyes appeared against drowsy laced eyelids, they began searching until they landed on England. "I-Iggy?" Seeing a small bundle against England's chest woke America up. The American sat up slowly, eyes never leaving the bundle. Then, they darted to look into England's, where tears began to slip free.

"I'm sorry," England whispered.

That was all it took for America to realize what had happened to their baby. Those tanned lids shut over the cerulean hues in a form of – England was hoping – acceptance after living for over 240 years of life.

"Why did this happen? Why is life unfair?" Tears trailed America's face as he looked down at his lap.

England coughed to get the nurse's attention and offered the bundle to her. She took the baby and walked over to America, who nearly cried out as he reached to hold his baby. This made England feel horrible as he watched his lover hugging their dead son tightly to his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" America said quietly, "Everything is my fault."


End file.
